The World Will Heal
by Kalana Fox
Summary: As he gets ready for his long nap with Maotelus, Sorey takes a moment to reflect and dream on the world to come.


Sormik Week is upon us. This is my entry for Day 1. I used the prompt "healing". This one has very little Sormik actually in it so I call it Sormik Lite. But it's where I wanted to go with that prompt. It also involves a bit of my theory of Maotelus always being a dragon. I hope you enjoy it! More coming soon. Stolen Kisses will also be updated...someday...soon...I promise. OTL.

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 **Day 1 – Healing**

In the wake of the final battle—when the resounding thud of Heldalf's back against the stone throne reached his ears—Sorey allowed himself a moment of relief. It was over. It was finally over. They'd achieved the hardest part of what they'd set out to accomplish, but now a new task lay ahead of him.

The moment the dragon appeared, momentarily blinding him with his light, Sorey knew that the pure being hovering just above the now-human man was Maotelus. Their missing Maotelus. By now he'd met a number of dragons on his journey, so he knew the feeling associated with witnessing the pain and suffering of a fallen seraph.

But this time…this time felt different. He wasn't able to dwell on it much as he made his slow walk towards Heldalf, ending his long, tortured life with a single, decisive thrust of the sword Rose left him. Nor was he able to dwell on it in the moment when his chest swelled with relief at the sight of the spirits of his friends he'd been unsure would survive. The cool caress of Mikleo's light against his cheek before he watched them fly up to rejoin Rose was the only good night kiss he was going to get for the next who-knows-how-many-long years.

He was only really able to study and dwell when his attention was finally on the great dragon, floating before him now. Despite the overwhelming malevolence that surrounded them like a cage, there was none being emitted from the white dragon. Unlike Tiamat, unlike Eizen, this seraph did not cast a malevolent domain. If anything, all he cast was an aura of purifying light that warmed Sorey as he drew closer to Maotelus, reaching out to press his hand gently against the large snout.

Even in appearance there was nothing malevolent about this dragon. Where Eizen and Tiamat had had sharp spikes and horns, this dragon's horns were blunted and smooth. Incapable of hurting someone. Even the spikes that were along his arms—while they looked sharp—were not nearly as pointed as the spikes he remembered from Tiamat or Eizen, or even the hellionized Maotelus they'd fought just a while ago. Maotelus' wings were also much different from the wings he'd seen before, and the wings the other dragons had. Covered in scales, but much more feather-like now in shape. Overall the dragon before him was softer and purer than any dragon he'd fought before.

 _So this is how you've always been…_ he thought, certain that the seraph could hear him.

If he thought back far enough, he could remember an old man in the Shrinechurch saying that Maotelus was said to always appear as a sacred creature of light. He hadn't considered what that meant at the time, but looking at the pure dragon now, it made sense. This whole time he'd thought that Maotelus, along with the land, would need to be healed. But now that he's seen the seraph's true form, it was clear the only thing in need of healing was the land itself.

That was the main goal here, and he closed his eyes as he felt the seraph's warm purification begin to surround him with his hand still resting on the dragon's snout. It was time for him to sleep, like he'd told Mikleo not too long ago on that Lastonbell balcony. As long as he was here, the malevolence of this place and the world wouldn't be allowed to touch Maotelus ever again.

The dragon stirred beneath his hand, but only to briefly open his eyes before closing them again, disappearing in a familiar flash of light before Sorey felt his presence settle in alongside his own. He welcomed it, holding his arms to his chest as if he were holding something precious. He couldn't see it, but he could feel a cocoon of warm light forming around them, keeping them aloft in the air.

As he begins to feel the weight of sleep on his mind he can't help but think about the world he hopes to wake up to see. A world with little to no malevolence. A world with no war. A world where seraphim and humans live together again, in harmony. A world that's healed from the sins of his distant forebear. Maotelus shows him what that kind of world used to be like, thousands of years ago. He remains confident that humanity has since learned and will continue to learn. He must, for the sake of the future he wants to build.

When he finally succumbs to sleep, the last remnants of his conscious thought are on his water seraph. The one who will be most affected by his absence. It'll be hard, and he'll have a lot of apologizing to do when he wakes up, but Mikleo is strong. He's always been strong.

The world will heal, just like he knows Mikleo will too.


End file.
